


Trying to get in and finally I am

by orphan_account



Category: Lennison - Fandom, The Beatles
Genre: Gen, I even added Pete Best in, I'm still avoiding the lennison IT'S COMING GIVE ME A CHANCE, there's even bitchslapping is that even the word for it lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9855434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Still avoiding everything...





	

But it made sense. It could be action packed? Check. Mainly sitting around? Check. Didn’t tell me about it? Makes sense. We got off at a stop not too far away from it and walked the rest of the way, I had no words to say, but John certainly did. I didn’t even catch half of them, stuff about ‘protocols’ and ‘departments’. We reached the reception desk in the big strong building.  
‘Where do the hopeful recruits go, Nancy?’ John asked the receptionist.  
‘Hello there, Agent Lennon. There’s a sign, y’know. You really should be wearing your glasses.’ Nancy said. John blushed slightly. He refused to wear them because they are apparently ‘too nerdy’. Like John wasn’t a nerd. He watched Doctor Who with me, Star Wars, Red Dwarf, read fanfiction, even did the nerdiest thing of all; tried to go to the filming locations of these things and conventions. I obviously went with him to make sure that he didn’t do anything stupid. John lead me down the corridors to make sure I didn’t get lost, and sure enough we reached a room marked ‘Recruits - F’. I opened the door to a locker room full of people my age and some older, all chatting amongst themselves. I expected there to be silence and harsh stares when I stepped in, but no, just a couple of people looked up and the chatter continued. I found myself a spot, and noticed nobody was in track-gear or fancy getups, just plain clothes like me. I sat down next to a girl with frizzy black hair and an orange shirt that contrasted against her dark skin.  
‘Hi.’ I said with a smile, hoping to make friends with at least one person. I nearly never did that, and if I did I always lost them. ‘I’m Morgan. What’s your name?’ I asked, trying not to sound like a robot. I knew I was giving off nerves because she looked as nervous as I felt, and she relaxed a little because I must look and sound nervous too.  
‘Hi there! I’m Anna. Do you expect to get in?’  
‘Not really, I expect it would be nepotism or favouritism because my flatmate brought me here.’ I smiled a little because of that, but it felt wrong to smile about.  
‘Yeah. I don’t expect to get in either, but I think everyone else is an acquaintance of someone here at least. Some cocky bitch over there says she’s the cousin of an important manager here and is going to get it. She’s the bimbo over there.’ Anna said. I noticed the blonde girl wearing what was probably an inch of makeup. I noticed that John had signed me onto the list, because I hadn’t done it and my name was up on the screen as being four places away from being called into the furthest door. I chatted with Anna, who had already been, and wasn’t allowed to tell me anything. Soon my name was called up.  
‘Warwick, Morgan?’ a voice called. I stood up and walked quickly over to the door. I opened it too what was the quintessential movie interrogation room. I took the seat I was gesture to take.  
‘Your name is Morgan Warwick, correct?’ the man conducting the interview said, not looking up from the form that was being filled. I noticed that next to the desk lamp was a voice recorder.  
‘What skills do you think you can bring to your work?’  
‘Er… I came top of the class in physics in year 12, I’ve got a Bachelor of Arts, I’ve apparently got a really good memory and I can keep a secret.’ I said, trying to slow myself down.  
‘Anything else?’  
‘I can draw, I suppose.’ I said.  
‘Interesting. Personality type?’  
‘I think it was INTJ.’ I said, trying to remember that one lesson.  
‘Can you fire a gun?’  
‘No, but I haven’t had the opportunity.’ I said. The rest of the interview continued, asking questions about where I went to school, have I broken the law, other questions secret services would probably ask.  
‘Thank you for your time, Miss Warwick. You may go out and mingle.’ The bored monotone voice of the interviewer said. I left the room and sat back down with Anna.  
‘How was it?’  
‘Not as bad as I would have thought.’ I said. ‘How do we know if we’ve gotten through?’ I asked.  
‘I overheard that it’s displayed on the screen. They run it through a programme on a computer and in a little while they’ll show it on the screen.’ Anna replied. As soon as the last interviewee came out, the screen displayed:  
‘Time remaining: 9:59’ which symbolised the countdown to when we got the results. Only four people got selected at the end, and ten would go through from now. The screen flickered and I noticed a few girls start crying. Bimbo girl didn’t get through, thankfully, but Anna hugged me.  
‘We both got through! We got through!’ she squealed. I was slightly taken aback at first, but I then realised I was a step closer to having a job. The next test was a fitness test. I groaned and so did Anna. I was skinny but not fit, never had been. Anna wasn’t exactly thin either, but I ignored that. I always focus on the personality of people rather than their looks.  
‘Could you all get into pairs please?’ the instructor called out. Anna and I obviously got into a pair together, and so did the other eight. We did twenty metre sprints and I somehow managed to break my record. There wasn’t any endurance testing and I was thankful. I wasn’t an endurance person at all. We then did some agility which I did average on, and then we had to do it in pairs. We were doing really well but then Anna slipped and her ankle went under her. I stopped and went back for her. We would lose but it didn’t matter because she was on the ground in pain.  
‘Did you roll it?’ I said, getting down to her level and helping her up.  
‘Yeah, I think.’ Anna grimaced.  
‘Come on, we’ve gotta finish this.’ I said, helping her limp over to the finish line. Anna collapsed as soon as we crossed it, and I grabbed one of the water bottles there. She gulped it down thankfully. A nurse came in and took Anna to the sick bay. I sat in limbo while the nine of us sat in the once crowded locker room. Eight would be going home, and four out of both the men and women, as they were backwardly catergorised, would be taken is as new agents. I sat and shifted awkwardly in my place, and soon the screen showed the two that would be going through. Everyone else stared at me as my jaw dropped. I’d been selected with Anna. Why would they do that? Nepotism? The rest of the girls seemed to think so.  
‘How’d you do that? You didn’t even win!’ one of them said, one that I recognised as one of the bimbo girl’s troupe.  
‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’ I said, and got bitch slapped. I shrugged it off, and said,  
‘You really think that did damage?’ I said, and one of them punched the same spot. I kicked out as a reflex, and got her in the gut. She muttered a string of words that were mainly fuck and shit. I rubbed the spot I got both punched and slapped, though they weren’t strong. I’d suffered worse. I went through all the paperwork, and thought the lack of it was fishy. At the end of the day, John met with me and hugged me.  
‘Well done. I think I’m even in charge of you lot.’ He said into my shoulder, pinning me.  
~One Week Later~  
The first week would hopefully be easy. It was mainly learning about where everything was and getting settled in. John didn’t get me, but a ‘prick of a trainee’ called Pete Best. I got assigned to the guy that was basically a lower ranked Q.  
‘Hello there. You must be Morgan. I’m George.’ The you man, about my age, shook my hand. He was wearing glasses probably just to spite John, because he mentioned him. A lot. George was basically a teddy boy with his drainpipes, a quiff that by five had fallen into more of a moptop, and sometimes even wore a bow tie. He even had the same taste in music as me, leaning more towards the Ronettes and other girl groups. He showed me all the things I would need to know, and wasn’t harsh, like who Anna ended up with. I even learnt to shoot a gun under him. By two weeks in, he did something that was not quite right but was still OK, because I was technically at his ranking.  
~To Be Continued~


End file.
